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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27861834">Christmas is the time to say I love you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebowtie/pseuds/thebowtie'>thebowtie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>hooptedoodle's advent calendar [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>James Bond (Craig movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas, Day 3: Fake Dating, Day 4: oh no there's only one bed, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Holiday Sweaters, M/M, Meet the Family, Only One Bed, Own Characters - Freeform, Sweet James Bond, Tw implied past abuse but its not the main characters, and also very much in love, pining? probably, q is an introvert</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:35:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,887</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27861834</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebowtie/pseuds/thebowtie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 3: fake dating<br/>Day 4: oh no there's only one bed </p><p>On the insistence of his mother, Q decides to spend Christmas with his family. Because he clearly is not quite sane around this time of the year and because his mother thinks he is dating someone special, he brings Bond as his fake boyfriend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James Bond/Q</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>hooptedoodle's advent calendar [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>113</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. fake dating</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/hooptedoodle/gifts">hooptedoodle</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is going to be two chapters because it happens to fit with another beloved trope that I had also planned for these two. </p><p>As always, this is not beta-read, I'm sorry.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It could be a lot worse, Q thought as he tried to exit the car with dignity – a lost cause, really.</p><p>Bond – as Q had expected him to – had started pulling the favour card right away and insisted on taking the most ridiculous car.</p><p>Q had considered explaining that his family did not live in <em>that</em> kind of countryside – meaning the kind Bond was no doubt used to, the kind were no one would bat an eye on a car like this and probably not even at a fucking elephant, come to think of it. However, he had refrained, the main chorus from “Staying alive” on repeat in his head. There was no point in wasting his precious energy on discussing cars with Bond.</p><p>Sure enough, the car drew attention before they even managed to enter the house.</p><p>Q’s hopes for an unspectacular entrance quickly vanished into thin air as his nieces and nephews stormed out of the house, followed by their fathers who tried to appear more nonchalant but eyed the monstrous car will ill-concealed arousal.  </p><p>“Way to go, Billy,” Steven said with a nod to the car from which Q was still struggling to emerge.</p><p>Q rolled his eyes. Despite not seeing the agent, he had no illusions about the expression on Bond’s face. Where was the traitor anyways?</p><p>“It’s William,” Q snarled, finally successful in heaving himself out inelegantly, his anorak falling to the snowy ground.  </p><p>Charles, his other (and preferred) brother in law, stepped up next to them, patting Q’s shoulder amiably, giving him a warm smile, which Q answered awkwardly.</p><p>A little girl clung to Charles leg and Q recognised her by her red curls as his niece Gracie. The girl looked at him shyly from behind her father’s leg. Q could sympathise.</p><p>Where the hell was Bond?</p><p>Steven, the brick, was unmoved. “No need to be cranky, Billy. I was paying you a compliment. That’s hell of a car you have here.”</p><p>He made an expert face that Q detested even though he knew it wasn’t fair of him.</p><p>“It’s not mine,” Q bit out.</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Actually, it’s ours. Darling, won’t you introduce us?”</p><p>There he was. Q needed a moment to digest the vision that was James Bond in a plain (Q had insisted) but expansive knit pullover carrying all of their bags at once, calling Q ‘darling’ as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He was followed by three other kids who had obviously spotted the bag with the Christmas gifts. Bond smiled at them while coming closer, careful to not step on their small feet or stumble over their fast-moving bodies. He looked every bit the attentive family man.</p><p>God, but Q had a damn good taste when it came to fake boyfriends.</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>It was ridiculous that Q already felt a bit better facing off against his family with Bond securely by his side. That was why he had brought the agent. That and his mother almost crying on the phone, inquiring when they would finally meet this boyfriend of his and <em>surely</em> the man must hate them if he wouldn’t come for Christmas?</p><p>Inconveniently, Q loved his mother. Even more inconveniently, Q loved Bond, who tragically happened to be both the inspiration for “this boyfriend of his” and, sadly, also the only agent he trusted enough to put up with this.</p><p>Q had graciously allowed himself to postpone damage control into the new year.</p><p> “Steven, Charles, this my partner James. James, these are my brothers in law.”</p><p>“How are you doing?” James somehow managed to extend a hand without letting go of any of the luggage.</p><p>To Q’s immense pleasure, Steven looked a bit startled, but he shook Bond’s hand with only slight resistance.</p><p>“I was just saying to Billy here that that’s quite a car. I take it that you picked it?” The underlying <em>let’s face it </em>Billy <em>is too stupid when it comes to cars </em>was there in plain sight.</p><p>Bond lifted his brows. “Actually, <em>William </em>is in charge when it comes to technology. He installed some very useful gadgets too.”</p><p>Before Steven could recover from that half-lie, there was an exclamation of excitement and, with short but sturdy steps, Q’s mother made her way over to them from the door.</p><p>“William!” she exclaimed even as she still was a few meters away.</p><p>“Hey mum,” Q greeted before he let himself be wrapped into a crushing hug.</p><p>“Oh, it’s been too long. You are so thin, dear, I knew that you aren’t eating enough. And your hair-“</p><p>Before Q could find out what the hell was wrong with his hair, his mother laid eyes on Bond and fell silent for a moment.</p><p>“Oh, dear, who have you brought us?” she asked with an awe in her voice that almost made Q roll his eyes.</p><p>“Mum, this is my partner James, James this is my mum,” Q explained the obvious, trying to sound as unbothered about it as possible.</p><p>“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Elliot.”</p><p>How Bond managed to look the perfect gentleman bowing down to delicately kiss her hand all while still carrying their luggage and navigating the bag with presents out of the range of gropy children’s hands was completely beyond Q.</p><p>“Oh, you must call me Lillian,” she said with a blush to her cheeks.</p><p>“Lillian then,” Bond amended agreeably, charming smile in place, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. William has told me so much.”</p><p>Q somewhat hysterically wondered whether he should have been more cautious about bringing Bond along to meet his single mother – or at least not have him wear a sweater that highlighted his eyes.</p><p>His mother beamed at Bond, a little teary eyed.</p><p>Q felt adequately guilty for not having been home in so long.</p><p>“The pleasure is all mine. I’m so glad to finally meet you in person. Q has told me <em>so </em>much about you! I knew you would end up together even before he admitted to even liking you.”</p><p>Bond raised his brows and Q was sure that the amusement wasn’t fake.</p><p>“Is that so?” he asked innocently.</p><p>Q shot him a glare which was met with silent laughter in very blue eyes.</p><p>“Oh, yes, he was going on and on about how much he disliked your arrogance and what a nuisance you were,” his mother immediately went for the bait, completely oblivious to her mortified son. “That man at work did this and James did that. I just knew he had it bad.”</p><p>She winked at Bond and was delighted when he grinned back.</p><p>“I had no idea I was such a nuisance to you, sweetheart,” he drawled teasingly.</p><p>“No need for past tense there,” Q grumbled back which at least made James laugh.</p><p>His mother gasped, scandalised. “Don’t you listen to him, James. He is a dear boy really. He just doesn’t know how to properly express his affection.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, I’m myself a difficult character,” Bond said charmingly.</p><p>“Really? I can’t imagine,” his mother retorted as if Bond was an angel for putting up with Q.</p><p>Q might have rolled his eyes, but he was too glad that his mother was happy, obviously taking to Bond immediately.</p><p>“Now, why don’t we all go inside; it’s freezing. Your sisters will be so delighted to see you. It's been ages.”</p><p> </p><p>The better half of the next hour was filled with meeting <em>everyone. </em>Having been absent from the family home for five years, Q had almost forgotten himself how many people they were. It was just as well that he had bought his mum the big house. It was obviously needed.</p><p>His mum lived in it with her own mother, Q’s grandmother. Both had outlived their husbands (or in Lillian’s case survived them). Two of Q’s older sisters, Elisabeth and Emma, also lived here, Emma with her partner, Alice.</p><p>His other two sisters, Jane and Mary, were visiting with their husbands and children – most of whom Q only knew form photographs and video calls. Also, there were three cousins of varying relation. One of them also with family.</p><p>It was a bit overwhelming, really. Which let to Bond – who naturally immediately got along with all of them as if he had known them for years – looking very amused when they had finally managed to escape to the guest room that had been prepared for them.</p><p>Q let himself drop to the bed unceremoniously letting out a heartfelt groan.</p><p>“They <em>love</em> you,” he accused, his hands on his eyes, glasses pushed into his curls, “forty-three minutes and they already love you.”</p><p>“You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” the agent remarked as he started to unpack the content of his case into the wardrobe. Posh fucker was probably worried about wrinkles in his shirts.</p><p>Q for his part would be living out of his own suitcase for the coming days.</p><p>“No, it’s brilliant. Of course, everybody adores James Bond. That’s why I brought you.”</p><p>Q’s voice was muffled by his hand rubbing over his face, maybe trying to rub away all his mother’s and sisters’ kisses and affections, as well as the – he felt – judging assessments of his “too thin” face and body.</p><p>Bond chuckled.</p><p>“And I thought you brought me because you wanted to make your sisters jealous.”</p><p>Bastard.</p><p>“Same difference. Also, poor timing for that comment. Real waste.”</p><p>Bond barked out a short but genuine laugh that made Q shiver – though he half convinced himself that it was due to the cool room.</p><p>He lay there silently for a while, watching James unpack. It was such a strangely domestic scene. You wouldn’t imagine James Bond to be the kind who unpacked his clothes neatly into the wardrobe after a meet and greet with his (fake) boyfriend’s family.</p><p>Wondering why Bond had agreed to this in the first place was another thing that Q had postponed to next year. But Bond had agreed right away, and Q was reasonably sure that – even though he did outrank Bond and could technically make it an order if he wanted or worse even treat him into this by promising an exploding gadget – this had nothing to do with work.</p><p>Was it the obvious trust Q showed letting the other in on the fact that he had a family – and not a small one at that? Most MI6 agents did not have a family. Bond certainly didn’t. Maybe that was a supporting factor. Maybe the other wanted to have this normality for the holidays. The normality of teasing relatives and an overly attentive mother. The normality of not having to charm someone just to extract information or to be able to kill them with less complications.</p><p>“Thank you, James, for doing this,” Q broke the silence after about two minutes of sulking.  </p><p>Bond, rather uncharacteristically severe in a situation where Q might have expected good-natured teasing, just looked up at him with soft smile saying, “Any time, Q.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. oh no there's only one bed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Day 4: oh no there's only one bed</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Somewhat late, but here it comes.<br/>I realise I have a problem with getting too caught up in these.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, Will, where did you find him?”</p><p>It was late evening. The kids had already been brought to bed with assurances that they would be allowed to be up late the next day for Christmas Eve. The adults were clustered in groups in both living room and kitchen, engaging in activity or small talk.</p><p>Q was perched on the admittedly comfortable sofa with Alice and Elisabeth. They were sharing their second bottle of red and Q was ready to admit that family gatherings could be partially agreeable.</p><p>“I told you, we work together,” Q insisted rolling his eyes at his sister.</p><p>Elisabeth rolled her eyes right back at him. “Yeah. In the same company. But you can’t tell me James is a pencil pusher. I mean, have you seen him? He is fit.”</p><p>Q looked over at where Bond was playing poker with Emma, Steven, Lillian, and their cousin Harriet. He did look fit. The casual wear certainly did something to his figure that Q very much appreciated. He knew Bond preferred this look too.</p><p>“I’m not a ‘pencil pusher,’” Q emphasised. “I work in IT.”</p><p>His sister shrugged as if to say, <em>and so? </em></p><p>Q sighed. Anticipating such scenarios, he had already put together a background story. Bond had laughed at him, but apparently for all his people skills the agent was missing basic experience with relatives. (To no one’s surprise) Q was smarter.</p><p>“He’s not IT, he works in sale and he works out. It’s called a healthy lifestyle. Maybe you should try it.”</p><p>Alice grinned. “It’s called convincing people into buying things from you by using your body,” she corrected.</p><p>Q shrugged, taking a sip from his wine. “That too,” he admitted, probably sounding a tad prouder than he really should.</p><p>The two women chuckled, and Q found himself grinning too. He didn’t like lying to his family like that, but it came with the job (oh well, maybe the fake boyfriend didn’t exactly come with the job, but it really wasn’t that huge a stretch in comparison, was it?). It was for MI6’s safety as well as for his family’s. And in the end, it felt nice to pretend to have a normal job and a normal boyfriend and, for once, to openly talk about how ridiculously attractive James Bond was without giving anything away.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it was the wine or perhaps the joy of reunion with his mother and sisters – despite all superficial annoyance and awkwardness, Q was glad to see them all again. In any case, Q found himself to be oddly under-prepared for what was waiting in the guest room when they finally made their excuses for the evening.</p><p>A single queen-sized bed.</p><p>“I can sleep on the couch,” Bond offered politely, making it transparent that Q’s hesitance didn’t go unnoticed.</p><p>“Nonsense.”</p><p>Q snapped himself out of his second thoughts concerning the whole set up of his fake-boyfriend plan and went towards his suitcase to roam for his pyjamas. He didn’t expect Bond to still stand where he had left him as he turned around to claim first turn in the bathroom.</p><p>The agent’s expression was oddly soft.</p><p>“I know you aren’t comfortable with physical proximity.” James’ voice was low and matter of fact. “There is no need for you to be uncomfortable if it can be avoided.”</p><p>Q was startled for a moment. He knew of course that Bond could be like this. Soft and considerate. Mostly, his considerations were of the unspoken sort. For example, he would bring tea for Q when he himself was having coffee. Or he’d suggest someone other than Q for operations that went with flying. Or he would lower his voice around R because he knew that they were easily spooked by men talking loudly.</p><p>This outspoken consideration for Q’s comfort was something else though. It felt a bit overwhelming.</p><p>Q smiled at the other, allowing himself to show how touched he was in return.</p><p>“Thank you,” he said softly. “But if I wasn’t comfortable with sharing, I would sleep on the couch myself.”</p><p>The unspoken <em>I am comfortable with you. I trust you. </em>hung between them for a moment. Then, Bond nodded his understanding.</p><p>“Of course, if you’d rather…” Q added, belatedly realising that this could go both ways.</p><p>“I’m more than fine, Q,” the other answered to the unfinished sentence and that was that.</p><p> </p><p>“You keep calling me Q,” Q observed into the darkness of the room after they had lain in silence for a while.</p><p>There was a pause in which Q wondered whether the other was asleep already. The other was on his back so Q could see the very vague line of his profile. However, his bad vision in combination with the darkness made it impossible to make out whether Bond’s eyes were open or not.</p><p>“I think of you as Q. It’s very fitting,” Bond said eventually. “Would you prefer William?”</p><p>For the first time, Q paid attention to how Bond pronounced his given name, how it sounded in his voice. Strangely intimate after they usually used each other’s codenames.</p><p>“I don’t know,” he admitted, feeling a bit distracted. Probably due to the wine. “There are many Williams.”</p><p>Bond chuckled and Q couldn’t help but smile too. Such a childish sentiment.</p><p>“There used to be other Qs,” Bond pointed out.</p><p>Q hummed. “So, I am one of many anyways?” he asked.</p><p>“No,” Bond admitted almost immediately. “You really aren’t.”</p><p>Q smiled into Bond’s direction, his eyelids growing heavier. They fell back into comfortable silence.</p><p>“William?”</p><p>“Yes, James?”</p><p>“Thanks for trusting me.” <em>It means a lot.</em></p><p>Q hummed, feeling himself drift off rapidly. “Don’t think about it too much,” he mumbled.</p><p>He thought he heard James chuckling again even though he was unsure whether he had really meant it as a joke.</p><p> </p><p>“So, James, how much are you making?”</p><p>Q looked up wearily from his bowl of traditional Christmas Eve soup. He registered that Elisabeth, Alice, and Mary, changed their postures as well, turning their attention towards Steven who had asked the question.</p><p>“Enough to afford a comfortable life-style,” James answered easily, looking at Steven with an open gaze that might intimidate if it wasn’t paired with a smile.</p><p>“For Billy, too, I bet,” Steven continued, ignoring a warning glance from Mary.</p><p>On the other side of the long table, Q’s mother loudly asked whether anyone wanted seconds.</p><p>“Are you suggesting something?” Bond asked. He was still smiling but Q knew him better.</p><p>“Well, I’m just saying,” Steven continued, “There is quite the notable age gap between the two of you and surely being looked after can smoothen things out. What?”</p><p>Mary had not so subtly hit her husband with a sharp elbow.</p><p>“Well, let’s have this conversation then, shall we?” Q said tersely, putting his spoon down carefully.</p><p>“Will, you really don’t have to-“ Mary said, her gaze apologetic.</p><p>“Oh, but I want to,” Q interrupted, “Maybe it will help. For one, my name is William, Steven. Be so kind to stick with it. Secondly, I’m not doing so bad for myself financially which you knew if you would think for just one moment before you open your mouth. I do think that’s not too much to ask even during the holidays. And finally, even if James is earning more than I do that is not why I’m with him. I happen to be with him because he is smart and witty and considerate and efficient. I dearly hope the concept of love is familiar to you. Especially seeing that the concepts of manners and tact obviously aren’t.”   </p><p>The table was silent for a few beats, the only noise coming from the children’s table which’s occupants were cheerfully indifferent to the world discussed amongst the adults.</p><p>Then, Emma broke the tension by saying, “I’d like to make a toast. To William and James. William, we are delighted to have you here for Christmas after so long and we love you. James, welcome to the family. You obviously make my brother very happy.”</p><p>“To William and James,” the table echoed somewhat chaotically as many were still fumbling to reach for their glasses.</p><p>Afterwards – the table was again alive with chatting and decidedly good humour as tends to be the case after uncomfortable situations – James leaned over to Q, speaking in an intimate voice for only his ears.</p><p>“Efficient, mh?” <em>I thought age is no guarantee for efficiency. </em></p><p>Q rolled his eyes but smiled fondly.  </p><p>“Oh, shut up, would you,” he said.</p><p> </p><p>It happened when Q re-entered the living room with a new bottle of wine at the same moment as Bond advanced towards the kitchen, probably on his way to fetch something Q’s grandmother had asked for.</p><p>(Later, Q would think that Bond might have been lurking.)</p><p>After the incident earlier, the evening had progressed pleasantly. Steven hadn’t apologised but he made a point of calling Q by his actual name and behaved very respectfully towards Bond. Q wasn’t sure whether that was due to his outburst or due to James letting slip his military rank during dessert. Either way, it improved his general mood.</p><p>The kids were scattered all through the house playing hide and seek, supposedly as a cover for investigating after their Christmas presents which were securely hidden in the living room.</p><p>James stopped right in front of him, blocking his way.</p><p>Q raised his brows questioningly unsure whether he should be alarmed by the very subtle air of nervousness surrounding the other. Double-Oh’s didn’t get nervous. Or at least not visibly so.</p><p>“There is a mistletoe,” James explained, his voice a low, pleasant rumble, his eyes fixed on Q.</p><p>Unnecessarily, Q looked upwards, seeing what he knew was above them. He had noticed the decoration the day before when the children had tried to push each other underneath, chanting ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! You must kiss now!’ whenever they succeeded.   </p><p>Q swallowed. His mouth felt uncharacteristically dry and at the same time…he caught himself wetting his lip mid-motion. Damn it. He looked back at Bond who seemed to be waiting patiently.</p><p>“So…” Q started. To his relief, his voice sounded deeper than usually, not high-pitched.</p><p>“So,” Bond continued, “May, I kiss you, Q?”</p><p>Q nodded even before he could find his voice again.</p><p>James smiled warmly as he stepped into Q’s space and put one hand to his cheek.</p><p>It felt warm and a bit rough. <em>He kills people with this hand</em>, Q thought unprompted and somehow it wasn’t an uncomfortable thought.</p><p>“Genius, witty, innovative Q,” James said quietly as he leaned closer.</p><p>Q was almost too transfixed on Bond’s lips to make the connection, but he was a genius after all. He laughed despite himself, looking at the other wonderingly.</p><p>“Yes,” he murmured, “you may.”</p><p>And then, they kissed.</p><p>Had Q ever wondered what it would be like to kiss James Bond. Yes. Oh, <em>yes</em>, he had. Was it anything like he had imagined? Yes and no. It was just like it, but much better. He hadn’t thought of James holding his face tenderly. He hadn’t thought of both of them wearing vaguely Christmas themed knit sweaters. He hadn’t thought that he would be challenged to keep his grip on a bottle of wine while his knees went weak. He hadn’t – and here he was very sure – for the life of him imagined that his family would be watching.</p><p>A low whistle reminded Q that, yes, they were still in fact standing in his mother’s living room. He could feel his cheeks heat up instantly, but he still couldn’t help but answer the grin on James’ face.</p><p>He could hear a few people sigh and Alice amiably commented that they should get a room.</p><p>Q hid his face in James neck for a moment.</p><p>“By the way,” James murmured, “I love you, too.”</p><p>Q looked up so fast that he had to wince a bit from the head rush that followed.</p><p>“I- How- I didn’t say- that,” he finished somewhat weakly.</p><p>“I think you did,” James said with a fond smile that made it hard for Q to be outraged about the other’s self-confidence.</p><p>Q bit his lip, his eyes searching the other’s.</p><p>“Well,” he said slowly, “in that case I think you should kiss me again. Don’t you?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*distant Stefon voice* This chapter has everything. Fake dating, douchey relatives in law, and there was only one bed, unplanned confessions of love, kissing underneath the mistletoe, James Bond in a Christmas sweater...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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